


Picture This - The Danny Version

by melanie1982



Category: Danny Wood - Fandom, NKOTB - Fandom
Genre: F/M, Kissing, Masturbation, Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-01-19
Updated: 2016-01-19
Packaged: 2018-05-15 00:26:07
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,765
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5764693
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/melanie1982/pseuds/melanie1982
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>You've found Danny's private cabin on the cruise, curiously unguarded. You only meant to stay for a minute, maybe snag a memento - but now Danny's returned, and you're stuck in your hiding spot. Suddenly you're seeing things you were never meant to see, but, as it turns out, you aren't the only voyeur on board..</p><p>For the Danny girls :)</p><p>This story is fiction. I make no money from this story. I don't know the characters in real life.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Picture This - The Danny Version

Your heart is pounding as you enter, half-expecting to be tackled by security. This is insanity; scratch that - it's several levels beyond insanity. You never do things like this - but it's your only chance to get close to him, the man of your dreams. There's nobody here. The cabin is silent, while in the distance, you can hear the party going on without you. "I'll just stay for a minute," you promise yourself, trying to justify this invasion of privacy. The smell of him is everywhere: you breathe it in, letting it out with a sigh. His pillowcase and sheets are covered in his essence, and you want to roll yourself up in them and die with a smile on your face. What can you take that won't be missed? There are dirty clothes and towels in a hamper; maybe something from there would..

You hear his key in the door, and you freeze. Instinct kicks in, adrenaline pumping, propelling you toward the closet to hide before your rational brain can convince you to stay and face him. Through the slats in the wooden door, you can see him walk in, and you almost wet yourself with excitement and fear. Please let him leave soon, you pray, over and over; the closet is small, and if he decides to change clothes - oh, sweet lord...

Danny doesn't seem to want to change, though he does peel off his shirt, tossing it into the hamper you were just rifling through. Does he smell your perfume? It doesn't seem so. He moves to the desk, pulling out the swivel chair and easing his body into it. You watch as he fires up his laptop, scrolling through images. Squinting, you can make out what some of them are: they're fans' cruise photos. Swallowing hard, you watch as Danny, legs wide apart, relaxing in the chair, clicks through dozens of women's pics, women of all shapes and sizes. His face registers no trace of disapproval or judgment as he does so, appreciating each one for their particular assets. He seems to be looking for something specific, and you wonder what it could be.

His hand stops, hovering over the mouse. That hand moves to his chest, caressing the tanned skin there. What is he - ? Is he..? The hand moves lower, over his taut abs, then lower, pausing at the waistband of his pants. You glance at the screen, and your world shatters. It's YOU in the photos. You didn't think you looked your best when they were taken; your hair was a mess from the sea winds, and you'd had a little too much sun and sangria - but Danny is looking at the woman on the screen like he wants to eat her. Your top in the photos shows off your cleavage nicely, and the angle of your body in the shot allows him to see a hint of your well-formed rear. Just as you're cringing at your self-perceived flaws, Danny is easing his hand inside his pants, apparently having no issues with what he sees.

Your shock turns to anger; how DARE he objectify women in this way? How dare he -- ? You stop. Are you any better, lusting after him, trespassing in his cabin to get closer to him? Maybe, you think, we're as bad as each other. If he's going to get off to pictures of you, then it's only fair that you be able to get off watching him do it. Right?

Danny's back is to you now, but you can hear him, and you can see the motion of his arm, tensing and flexing as he works himself. If you blush any harder, you're going to bust veins in your face, and the shame of your naughtiness will be visible for the rest of your life. It's so hot in here now, your breath warming the small space of the closet, almost matching his breathing. Your fingers find their way to your nipples, which are rock-hard and straining beneath the fabric of your top. As your brush them with your fingertips, you bite your lip; any noise, any sound at all, and he'll find you here. Soon the nipple-play isn't enough. Your nether-lips are swollen and screaming for attention, and you work your hand down the length of your body, mirroring what he did minutes before. The shock of your finger hitting that hot little button forces your mouth into a silent 'o', your body forcing out a trickle of juice into the palm of your hand. Will he find a puddle in his closet? What will he think if he does? Soon you're too close to care, rubbing yourself like a bad girl at a sleepover, eyes shut, desperately trying to stay quiet. You're so wet, you can't quite get the friction you need to finish, but you're determined. As you press harder, you listen to his sighs, his subdued groans.. not hearing as he moves toward the door.

"Lube," he mutters, but you don't catch it - until you open your eyes, your nostrils full of the smell of him - and of yourself. The door opens, and he looks down, eyes growing wide, hard cock pointing at you like an accusatory finger. You don't know where to look; your guilt is all over your face, and over the hand still clamped firmly between your wet thighs. "Well well," he says, trying not to smile. "Looks like you're having the same problem I'm having." You look at his face, not finding anger there, then at his dick, then at his face, not sure which thrills you more. "Get over there and stand by the chair."

You obey, scrambling to your feet. Will he call security? Are you going to spend the rest of the trip in 'the pokey,' shackled like the wild thing you are? Will you go to jail once the ship docks? Danny grabs the lube as planned, slathering himself with it, his eyes locked on you. He wants you to see. Let that sink in: Danny. Wants. You. To. Watch. As he moves back to the chair, never taking his eyes off you, he seems so serious, so.. stern. You watch him sit, and he takes his cock in hand, but the hand does not move. He's staring so intently, you feel he's going to burn holes into you.

"Sit right here." He pats his lap, and you move forward, bracing one hand on the desk to help you balance on your wobbling legs.  
"No no. Strip first. You're going to be sitting.. on this." His cock is menacing, a bead of pre-cum already at the tip.

You tug at your top, hands shaking, peeling away the first layer. "The bra, too." What will he think of the twins once they're free, once gravity hits? He seems to approve, his eyes burning darker with lust as he takes it all in. "Now those," he says, pointing at your pants. You slide them down over your hips, down to your ankles, before stepping out of them and kicking them aside. You stop, and he waits, whistling his approval. "Very sexy panties. Now - take them off." When you don't move, he calls your name, softly; he must know things about you, things beyond what photos can tell him. You melt, hooking your thumbs into the waistband, easing them off, teasing him. When they're out of the way, he grabs you by the waist, and before you can protest about him lifting you, he's done it - lowering you into his lap and impaling you on his cock.

"Danny," you whisper, and his smile is feral, his hands positioning you the way he wants as he lets out a low sound akin to a growl.

"I like the way you say my name. You'll be doing it a lot more before we're done." You feel him move inside of you, raising his hips from beneath you as if you weigh nothing, filling you in the way you've ached for. His hands are strong and skilled; he knows how to caress you, shoulders, breasts, sides, the small of your back, all while helping you keep your balance. He doesn't rush, and you feel the tension building to the point of pain, needing the release that only Danny can give. "So sexy," he whispers; "even prettier than your pictures.." You force yourself to hold his gaze, willing yourself to be the confident, sexy woman he believes you to be. You take in the sight of his body, of the way you make him tense, his face tight with the need for the pleasure only you can bring him. He's saying your name again, asking you to focus, to cum with him. Danny guides one hand between you, where your bodies are joined, taking up the melody where you left off, that familiar tune that makes you explode when you play it alone. "Cum for me. Cum with me," he urges, and you do, his fingers pushing you from without, his cock filling you from within. The chair buckles beneath your combined weight with a groan, and you find yourselves on the floor, still joined, still gasping and panting as he fills you. As you catch your breath again, he speaks.

"You okay?"

"I'm..amazing. You?"

"Me too. That was.."

"Amazing?"

Danny laughs with an ease that makes you feel almost as if this has happened before, as if you.. know each other.

"I was hoping to run into you on the boat; just didn't imagine it would happen like this."

Shouldn't YOU be saying that to HIM? "Uh, you were? Me? Really?"

He kisses your nose. "Really. But I'm glad it happened this way. It means we don't have to waste time on small talk, or deal with people watching us."

"Right. People can be so nosy and weird, watching other people."

You both laugh, noting the irony. Then you catch what he just said. "Waste time?"

He kisses you again, on the lips this time. "Yeah. The cruise isn't even half over. I'd like to see you again. Is that cool?"

Oh, it's more than cool. It's stupendous and miraculous and perfect and -

"Sure. It's cool."

"Great. You've been very naughty, sneaking into my room like this. I'm not done punishing you yet."

"Punishing?" Your voice comes out in a squeak, your body blushing head to toe at the implications of his words. If that was 'punishment,' you'll never behave yourself again. Like, ever.

"Yeah," he says, growing hard again inside you. "Starting.. now."

Rock the boat, indeed.


End file.
